


Reprise

by bayoublackjack



Series: Love in London [27]
Category: Elementary (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Classical Music, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Holmes Brothers, POV Molly Hooper, Sherlock Apologizes, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlock Plays the Violin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3222545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bayoublackjack/pseuds/bayoublackjack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Actions speak louder than words, but music is the universal language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reprise

Seeing Sherlock at Divya’s party affected Molly more than she was willing to admit.  She was still cross with him and she probably would be for a while.  Over the years, Molly had endured many slights by his hand.  She was ashamed to admit that she had willingly overlooked it because of her affection for him.  This time was different though.  She didn’t just feel insulted.  She felt used.

Molly wasn’t ignorant to Sherlock’s past manipulations.  He knew just how to play her when he needed a favour.  A kind smile here.  A compliment there.  She hadn’t minded it at the time.  The pleasure of his company and a chance to see his genius at work in exchange for access to corpses and her laboratory.  She convinced herself it was a fair trade, but her friends never approved.  Martha especially.  Deep down, Molly knew they were right, but she supposed that was her lot in life.  Even before she met Sherlock, she had been doing the same thing for years.

Molly’s father wasn’t the easiest man.  He was never cruel, but he had been stern and rather cold at times.  He also had high expectations.  Molly spent years trying not to disappoint him and beating herself up whenever she did.  Eventually, things changed for the better.  As her father got older and sicker, he became kinder and deeply apologetic for the way he had treated her.

That had been it, Molly realised.  That was the defining moment.  If her father, a man she had loved so dearly, could change, then anyone could if they wanted to do so.  And therein laid the problem.

She believed Sherlock could change the way he treated her, but it couldn’t be because she wanted it.  He had to make the decision himself.  And if he chose wrongly, Molly had a decision of her own to make.

Molly kept that in mind while walking towards Baker Street.  Once again she found herself being summoned by one of the Holmes brothers.  This time, surprisingly, it was the younger Sherlock that requested the meeting.

As she ascended the steps to 221B, the sound of violin music could be heard.  It wasn’t unusual for Sherlock to play his violin at all hours of the day.  On this occasion, however, Sherlock wasn’t playing alone.  When she reached the top of the landing, she saw both detectives engaged in a lively duet of a song that Molly vaguely recognised, but couldn’t quite name off the top of her head.

The younger Sherlock, dressed in his typical dark suit, looked even more elegant with his violin in hand, but this was the first time Molly had ever seen the elder man playing.  He was dressed in a pair of brown trousers coupled with a white and grey pinstriped dress shirt that was buttoned at the neck and pushed up past his elbows.  Even though this was perhaps the most tranquil Molly had ever seen him, his playing style was a bit more offbeat than his younger brother’s.  The younger man swayed slightly as he played the main melody while the elder practically danced in place as he provided the colour that rounded out the harmony.

As they reached the chorus of the song, Molly bit back a laugh, finally able to discern why she recognised the tune.  Once the song ended, the tattooed detective quickly moved to his laptop.  “Are you recording yourselves playing a Taylor Swift song?” Molly asked from the doorway.

The elder looked up from his task.  “Upon the request of ‘Everyone.’”

“ _Everyone_ ?” Molly repeated with a quirked brow.

“A group of cyber-activists,” Sherlock explained.  “Embarrassment is their preferred currency.  In exchange for their assistance on a case, I am expected to and I quote…‘Shake it Off.’”

Molly let out a tiny giggle at his explanation which she promptly cut off when the other man turned his blue eyed gaze upon her.  She cleared her throat and straightened her spine.  “And  _you_ went along with it as well?” she asked almost defiantly.

“One performance in exchange for another,” he answered stoically while toying with the frog of his bow.

“Sit,” the elder man instructed Molly while he finished up sending off his recording to the mysterious hacker network.

Molly took a seat in the chair that former belonged to John when still resided in the flat.  The two men set themselves for a second song and Molly couldn’t help asking, “What is this time?  One Direction?”

Both men looked at each other in confusion and the younger one spoke first.  “It’s an original composition,” he informed her.  Molly opened her mouth to ask if he had invited her there solely to listen to them play, but the music had begun before she got her chance.

The younger Sherlock started off strongly with a rich and deep quality emitting from his violin.  A few bars in the other joined him with a lighter, airy sound that resonated in the background complimenting the other’s tone.  The arrangement continued on in that style for a long while growing in intensity as it progressed.  Then suddenly the song changed.  The elder slowed to a stop while younger man’s playing became much darker.  He drew out a long quiet note with his bow and Molly thought perhaps that the song was ending, but the older Sherlock resumed his airy melody.

For the next few bars, he played in the forefront while the other’s deep sound grounded the music.  To Molly, it seemed like the older of the two brothers was attempting to coax the younger out of the darkness, but he resisted.  Or at least, he was resisting.  Slowly, the music changed again.  Sherlock’s playing still was darker than his brother’s but he began throwing in lighter notes here and there matching the other man’s melody until finally they were playing the same sweet notes in perfect synchronicity.

The combination of sight and sound brought a smile to Molly’s face, but just as soon as it began it ended abruptly with an angry note from the older Sherlock.  The roles had switched and he conveyed the darkness and the other set off into a confused set of notes in the background that gradually faded into complete silence.  Without his brother’s accompaniment, the darkness gave way to a slow and sad sound that for some reason brought tears to Molly’s eyes.   She caught Sherlock’s eye as she dried her face on her sleeve and he lifted his bow to play again.

The sound he added was gentle and apologetic.  It was his turn to do the coaxing.  His brother didn’t offer much resistance and soon enough they were playing a shared melody once more that continued to the song’s end.

Molly waited a beat before reacting to make certain that it was really over.  Once they both lowered their bows, she began applauding wildly.  “That was beautiful,” she sniffed and dabbed her cheeks on her sleeve again.

“Actions speak louder than words,” the elder told her.  He put his instrument away and rolled his sleeves back down, buttoning the cuff as he moved to the door to retrieve his jacket.

Molly’s eyes followed his movement.  “Are you leaving?” she asked.

“I imagine you two need a moment alone,” he answered as he trotted down the stairs.  “Artist to muse,” he added just before stepping out onto the pavement below and closing the door.

“Muse?”  Molly turned back to the remaining Sherlock.  “Did you…was that for…you wrote me a song?”

Sherlock sank into his chair, violin still in hand.  “On the suggestion of Dr Jones,” he confirmed.

Molly stared at him in disbelief.  “Martha?”  He gave a curt nod without looking at her while his fingers caressed the fingerboard.  “Really?”

“Mmm.”

“Funny.  I…well…I never thought she cared for you all that much,” Molly confessed.

“She doesn’t.”  Sherlock lifted his gaze.  “But she cares for you.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“And…”

“And?”

“I care…” Sherlock began with a struggle.  “About you,” he clarified.  “I care.”

“Enough to write me a song,” Molly said with a smile.

“Not a song.  An apology,” Sherlock corrected.

Molly nodded slowly.  “I accept.”

“Are you done crying?” he asked.

“I certainly hope so,” Molly teased.

Sherlock considered her words.  “No guarantees.”

“Will I get another song, if you  _do_ make me cry again?” Molly challenged.

“Knowing me, you could even up with your very own suite,” Sherlock quipped.  “Ode to Molly.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Sherlock stood and put his violin away.  “Am I truly forgiven?”

“Yes,” Molly answered quickly.  “Truly forgiven.”

“Good.”  Sherlock walked over to her and took both hands into his, pulling her to her feet.

Molly stared at him in confusion.  “What are you doing?”

“I made you angry last time,” he explained as he led her towards his bedroom.  “I believe a reprise is in order.”


End file.
